


The Last Tulip

by belivaird_st



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:29:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23451739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belivaird_st/pseuds/belivaird_st
Summary: With the spring season here, Carol, Rindy, and Therese, have already begun their garden.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Kudos: 28





	The Last Tulip

Rindy pressed herself up against Therese in the backyard as Carol kneeled in front of them, patting soft soil neatly together with a pair of garden gloves. The tulip she planted was nothing but a small pink bulb. She already had eight others of the same flower lined up along the cubic squares of concrete that was filled with bark mulch and was decorated with a white marble bird bath and a blown glass orb being held by the webbed hands of a metal garden decor frog. They named him Webster and he was in charge of the plants and vegetables growing. 

“I think we’re just about finished here,” Carol said, leaning away from the pink tulip which was the smallest one. Seeing how limp it looked, Carol tried steadying it, but realized the head could not hold up like the others. It hung lazily, looking sad almost, like it couldn’t compete, or just gave up, entirely. Carol wanted to cry. She could relate to a simple flower.

“That must be the Airds’ checking in,” Therese was saying now, holding onto Rindy’s shoulders, listening to the high shrill ringing of the rotary phone going off inside the apartment.

“Who cares? Not me,” Carol heard herself say. She started feeling a few raindrops hitting her.

“Mommy, it’s raining!” Rindy exclaimed.

“We better get inside,” Therese began ushering her towards the back door. She glanced back to see Carol still in the same position on the grass. She called out her name. 

“I’ll be right there. Start thinking about dinner,” Carol said. She turned back to the last tulip and did something odd. She leaned over to kiss its soft, thin petals, before rising up back on her feet to head inside.


End file.
